Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1887-09-01

Yet II was killing her-s!o WY, surely
killing her, sapping her strength,
wearing her away.
She had thought that one glance at
the beautiful face, one sound OF the
sweet voice would cool the fever
that burned In her veins, but it In
creased It,; 1t did not still this beating
of her heart; and yet she could no longer
resist il.
Her daughter had, as IL were, grown
up with her, from the desol tie hour In
which she left her, until this time,
She had had no other thoughts, she had
eagerly read the daily papers with
their Information as to the where
abouts of Lord Stair; she knew when
he went to Germany and to France, to
London, and to Oakcliiie.
She knew when Ethel came OF age,
and was presented at court; she re ad
with weeping, eyes of her beauty, OF
her grace, OF the sensation she had
created In society, and then 1t seemed
TO her that her heart was on fire;
she must see her, the little Sunbeam
grown into beautiful young girl. She
could hardly realize 1t; her heart and
soul craved Tor one look at her; and
then, be fore she had realized that Ethel
had grown up, she read one day OF the
story of her marriage.
Married at seventeen, and to the best
match in England; little Sunbeam,
Duchess of Meath. She must see her
now, and again she read how the duke
had taken mis- beautiful young wife
home to Meath Castle. She must ZEE
her, she could resist no longer; for
seventeen long years the hunger of her
heart and soul had been growing.
1t was not so difficult--go where she
would her living was in her own hands.
She had always plenty of orders for her
exquisite lace on hand; she might as
we'll live at CIavering as In London, or
elsewhere. If-but the dazzle of light
was almost too great, the glimpse OF
happiness almost more than she .ould
reallze-if she could but be somewhere,
where at times she could see her, even
If only in the far distance, and the
dream was realized at last. She went
to the great irn that employed her,
and was told that IL would not make
the least difference to them where she
lived; that her work could be sent just
the same. There was no obstacle, but
dare she trust herseltg Even, after all
these long years of absence and of self
control, could she trust herself? and the
answer as-"Ies."
She might live where she could see
the beautiful girl whose baby face had
been photographed on her heart; she
hardly hoped the time would ever come
when she should speak to her. She
will never forget the ecstasy ofdelight,
the keen pleasure that was almost pain,
on that glorious morning when she
went to look at the place where her
daughter dwelt; the bloom Of the blue
bells attracted her, and sue saw her
daughter herself-a beautiful, graceful
girl, tall and slender, with the bright,
dark loneliness of the Stairs. She knew
her at once. The wonder to herself
was that she had not fallen down dead
then and there, so great was her
emotion.
And. after that, she had simply worn
her life away in one fever of longing.
She found out that she had not done a
wise thing, she had allowed herself
this indulgence in a life that should
have been perfect crucifixion, and
now she had to pay the penalty. 1t had
been bad enough when life was all
blank, and she could neither see nor
hear her, when silence, like death lay
between them. 1t was worse now.
She could see her, yet never now dare
to utter one of the thousand thoughts
that surged from her heart to her
brain.
She owned to herself, with failing
strength, with beating heart and bitter
tears, that it was more than she could
bear